


Trust Me (An Epilogue to In the In-Between)

by christinebeckel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8028940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinebeckel/pseuds/christinebeckel
Summary: This is just a fun short story continuing Octavia's journey begun in 'In the In-Between.' It was requested by a reader who wanted me to explore the possibility of a relationship between Octavia and Malika kom Trishana. I left it separate from the actual story 'In the In-Between,' so readers who are completely loyal to Lincoln (trust me... I love Lincoln too), can forever keep Octavia single in their heads. But if you enjoyed 'In the In-Between,' and are up for a bit of cute romance and just a little danger... give it a read :)





	Trust Me (An Epilogue to In the In-Between)

Trust Me

 

“You have to come out a little further, Octavia.” Malika snickers. “It might help if you... You know... Actually let go of the trunk.”

“I’m working on it.” I reply with as much sass as I can muster while clinging pathetically to the tree trunk like a terrified three-year-old wrapped around her father’s leg. “Don’t rush me!” 

“Come on, Octavia.” Malika coos in a high voice as if speaking to a scared little poodle, or a kitten, or a goddamned hamster... something much cuter, softer, weaker than I ever want to be. “Coooome on... Coooome on... You can do it.”

Malika smirks as she teases me, the laughter in her blue eyes glinting in the dying rays of the afternoon sun. I want to wipe the smugness from her pretty face. I want to release the trunk, leap to my feet, and sashay my way out to her. I want to impress her. But my fingernails only dig further into the silver-white bark of the tree and I can almost feel my pride spiraling to the earth below like a leaf drifting in the autumn wind.

“Come on, Tave.” Malika repeats, abandoning her patronizing, motherly voice for the impatient, sassy one she uses all too often. “You don’t have to be scared. The branch will hold you. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” I fire back, trying to sound angry despite the fact that I am smiling. I can’t help it. Malika is the only one who has ever called me ‘Tave,’ and the name brings a grin to my face every time it falls on my ears, as if I am a marionette with invisible strings linking my earlobes to the corners of my lips and she is the puppeteer. “The last time you told me to trust you, I slit my foot open and Teeko had to stitch me back up AGAIN.”

“Yeah, well...” Malika replies. “That was a total fluke. I mean... I’ve jumped from that ledge a thousand times and never once hit a rock. I don’t know how you managed to find the ONLY sharp rock in a river full of smooth, mossy stones.”

“I didn’t have to look very hard.” I answer. “It was right where you told me to jump.”

“OK.” Malika admits with an impatient huff. “That was a mistake. That one’s on me. But you can trust me on this one, I swear.”

“Actually...” I correct myself. “Now that I think about it, the fourteen stitches in my heel WASN’T the last time you told me to trust you. The last time was when you convinced me to reach into that hive and...”

“OK...” Malika interrupts me. “THAT was a total fluke too. I’ve been stealing honey from that hive for years. I’ve never once been stung.”

“Eleven stings, Malika.” I complain. “ELEVEN. My fingers swelled up so fat I couldn’t bend them for a week. Couldn’t grip my sword. Couldn’t grip my reins. Couldn’t even grip a damn spoon. Eevie had to help me shovel my food into my face every night.”

“Again,” Malika says, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh. “That was a mistake. That one’s on me too. But I swear you can trust me on THIS. The branch will hold you.” She promises, backing out even further onto the narrow limb and jumping up and down on the bough to prove its strength. I don’t know how the hell she is on her feet, let alone jumping. But her balance is perfect and she is more than comfortable... She is downright confident, despite the fact that the bough bends beneath her with each jump, creaking like an old woman’s knees.

“Maybe you can’t trust ME.” She admits. “But I’m telling you... You can trust these trees.”

I know I shouldn’t trust her. But I want to. I really, really want to.

So I close my eyes. And I take a deep breath. And I open my eyes again. 

“If I end up at Healer Orna’s with Teeko attacking me with fucking Crocusjus again...” I threaten, finally releasing my death grip on the tree trunk. I immediately drop my fingers to the bough beneath me, digging my nails into it instead. And I slowly, awkwardly shimmy my way out, letting my feet dangle beneath me in nothing but the cool October air. 

“You won’t.” Malika laughs. “But if you do...”

“You just said, ‘I WON’T.’”

“You won’t.” She repeats. “But if you do, tell you what... I’ll let you cut me wherever you want and I’ll take the damn Crocusjus with you, alright?”

“Wherever I want?” I ask, scooching my butt a little further along the thick branch.

“Wherever you want.” She repeats with another smirk, strutting towards me as if strolling through the grass rather than the knobbly tree limb beneath us. “That’s how sure I am. Besides, we’re only about twelve feet off the ground. When I was four I slipped from a branch twice this high and didn’t get a single cut.”

“You didn’t get hurt at all?” I ask, skeptically.

“Well... I kind of broke my arm in three places.” Malika confesses. “But I didn’t need any Crocusjus for that.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better.” I roll my eyes, despite the fact that my eye-rolling skills, like my tree-climbing skills, can in no way compare to Malika’s. “Tell me again... Why do I have to practice shooting from branches anyway? Why can’t we practice in the range like usual... You know, the place that’s specifically designed for practicing?”

“Because...” She sighs impatiently, standing over me with her hands perched on her slender hips. “Not every forest is going to have convenient, built-in platforms for you to shoot from, Tave. You have to learn how to move through the forest without bridges and platforms.”

“I KNOW how to move through the forest.” I argue. “It’s called walking... On the GROUND.”

“Walking through the branches is just like walking on the ground once you get used to it.” Malika answers in all seriousness. 

“Yeah, OK. Sure... If you say so.” I laugh. “I don’t even understand how you’re STANDING right now, let alone walking around and jumping.”

“It’s easy.” She argues, putting her palms together in front of her chest as if praying and lifting one foot from the bough. She rests it against her other knee, balancing with her eyes closed. I recognize the pose from the one time Raven somehow convinced me to join her in her morning yoga exercises. About the only thing I learned that day is that I don’t have the patience for yoga, especially at five fucking AM. But I’m pretty sure Raven called this pose ‘tree,’ and I can’t help but giggle at the irony of it.

“You just have to become ‘one’ with the tree.” Malika says in a calm, hypnotic voice. And I half expect her to start chanting ‘ohm...’ before she breaks out in laughter and plunks down on the limb in front of me, letting her own legs dangle, looking as comfortable mounted on the branch as Roddeck is on the bare backside of his horse.

“The only part of me that’s becoming ‘one’ with this tree is my ass.” I whine at her as I shimmy a little closer. 

“Yeah, well... You’re wearing the wrong pants.” She informs me with a scrutinizing glance at my tight jeans before effortlessly pushing herself back onto her feet and turning away from me so that I have a grand view of her ass.

“You think I wear these super sexy cargo pants because they make my butt look cute?” She laughs, swishing her hips dramatically. Funny thing is... Thick and baggy as they are, her butt still DOES look cute in those cargo pants. And I feel myself blushing as the thought pops into my head out of nowhere... Her butt would probably look cute in ANY pants... Or... No pants at all. I swallow hard and shake my head to clear it as she pivots on the branch to face me again.

“Well, if SOMEBODY had warned me, maybe I would’ve thought to wear my kevlar pants.” I reply.

“You have kevlar pants?” Malika asks with wide, blue eyes.

“No.” I laugh. “It was a joke. But I wish I did, because at this rate, I’m gonna be pulling splinters out of my ass all night long.”

“Let me know if you need any help with that.” She replies, and I feel my stomach squirming within me at the wiggle of her eyebrows. And before I can even wonder at the sudden, strange sensation inside of me, she opens her mouth again and now I feel my stomach drop at the words. “I’m sure Teeko would love to offer his assistance.”

“No thanks. I don’t want Teeko’s fingers or his Crocusjus anywhere near my ass.” I answer.

“Yeah... Neither do I.” She replies and my stomach flips again at the half-cocked smirk she flashes me beneath one fully cocked brow. And before I can figure out the exact meaning behind the words, she has risen to her feet again and stepped easily over me. 

“Anyhow... Enough chit chat.” She says, snagging my bow from my back and dropping back down onto the bough behind me. She straddles the branch, close enough for me to feel the insides of her knees resting against the outsides of my thighs. And suddenly the chilly autumn night seems a whole lot warmer. She leans forward so that her arms are draped over mine. Then, with a chuckle, she pries my left hand from the safety of the limb beneath us and forces me to grab hold of the bow’s riser just below her steady grip. Then she gently, but firmly, twines her ankles around mine, anchoring me to her so that I can balance as she pries my right hand from the branch and pulls it to the bow’s string. She hands me an arrow and helps me load it, angling the bow towards the ground beneath us. 

“We’ll aim for that knot in the middle of that stump over there.” She says, guiding my hands until the string grows taut and I can feel the tension building in my fingers. 

And I try to hold steady. But I have to swallow hard again and force a deep breath in, because tonight I feel the tension building, building, building. And it’s not just in my fingertips. And I feel my body growing as rigid in Malika’s arms as the bowstring in my hands. 

“Relax, Tave.” Malika instructs, clearly as confused as I am by my sudden discomfort. “You know the drill... Slow breaths, steady heartbeat... Your pulse is racing.” She comments. “What’s the matter? You still nervous you’re going to fall?” She asks, wrapping her ankles a little tighter around my own and scooching even closer until I feel her flat tummy against my back. “Don’t worry... I got you.”

“No... I’m just... Uh...” I stammer, not sure of what to say. I don’t know when Malika’s skin against my own developed the power to make my heart pound within me. I don’t know when her fingers and knees and arms and tummy wrapped around me could suddenly cause my own fingers to tingle and my own knees and arms to go weak and my own tummy to flip and tumble. 

Come to think of it, I can’t even say when it went from Eevie begging me to take her to the ‘Moon Forest,’ to ME making the suggestion, and then, even further, to me making up excuses to visit Trishana as often as I possibly could. I can’t say just when my ears started craving the sound of ‘Tave’ shouted through the trees or huffed sassily between snickers or whispered softly in the breeze. I can’t say when dusk became my favorite time of day or when silver-white became my favorite color or when I started seeing the blue of Malika’s eyes in the darkness behind the lids of my own.

I can’t say exactly how I got here. But here I am all the same, struggling to breathe, with tingling fingers and weak arms and knees and my insides all a-twisted. And I have no idea what to do about any of it. And I have no idea what to say. 

And I open my mouth and try to force my insubordinate tongue to form some words... Any words to fill this silence. But before anything can escape my lips, the silence is broken by a piercing, haunting, howling.

Almost immediately the howling is echoed by a second, a third, a fourth cry on the chilly wind, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise along with the chorus. 

“Wolves!” Malika gasps into my ear, and I don’t know if it is the word or her warm breath that sends the shiver down my spine. “They’re close.”

“Where’s Eevie?” I ask, my voice high and thin with fear. Of course Eevie moves as effortlessly through the trees as Malika does and so we let her wander. But she always checks in every fifteen minutes or so. And, distracted as I have been, I’m only now realizing how long it has been since I last saw her grinning face pop up in between the branches around us. 

I thought my heart was pounding a minute ago. But now I’m sure the damn thing is just about to burst apart any second.

“I don’t...” Malika starts, even as a small voice cuts through a break in the howls. 

“Octavia!” Eevie shrieks. “Malika! Octavia!”

And now my mind is racing as quickly as my pulse. And before I can even think, I am sliding off of the branch, dangling by my hands, no longer terrified of the drop to the earth below. And just as I am about to release the bough, I feel two steady hands wrap around my wrists. Malika leans forward until her belly is flat against the branch, lowering me until my boots are only a couple of feet from the ground. Then she releases me, and as my feet meet the forest floor, she springs to her own feet on the bough above me and disappears into the branches in the direction of the shrieks... The direction of the howls. 

The adrenaline coursing through my blood is like liquid lightning charging every muscle within me, propelling me through the trees so fast that my heart is struggling to keep pace with my pumping legs. The shadows have grown long around me, but the silver-white glow of the natsoncha trees bounces off of every stone and branch in my path and I leap through the obstacles as surefooted as a doe in flight.

The melody of howls becomes disjointed, broken here or there by gruff barking and snarling and I am close enough now to hear the undercurrent of growls. I pull my sword from my back as I burst through the trees into a small clearing and catch my first glimpse of the snarling animals Malika called ‘wolves.’ They are lean and muscular and massive with thick, mangy coats of black and patches of silver gray glowing in the light of the trees. And their eyes glint red in the darkness. And I think to myself these are not wolves. They are beasts. They are monsters.

Five of the beasts prowl in a tight circle and my breath catches within me as I realize that they are circling another group of wolves already feasting, tearing savagely at the flesh of their prize. And I cannot move. And I cannot breathe. I cannot think. I cannot feel. And I cannot pull my eyes from the carnage. All I can do is watch.

Then suddenly one of the feasting beasts turns to nip and snarl at another and I see the bloody mess of his snapping jaws. His ugly muzzle is soaked in blood, streaks of crimson running through the grays and silvers and black.

Crimson. Crimson. Crimson. And I find my breath again.

“Eevie!” I shout into the darkness as all throughout the clearing beady eyes swivel onto me... More crimson glowing in the night. 

“Octavia!” Her tiny voice answers me from across the clearing. And fear is irrelevant now. I have to get to Eevie and I have no choice but to step from the trees. I move forward cautiously, slowly weaving my way through the prowling animals with my sword held steady before me. The monsters eye me, circle me, take turns lunging towards me with their ugly yellow teeth bared and their ears pulled flat against their heads. Whenever one gets too close I slash my sword through the air between us until it scampers backwards, still growling and snapping its jaws even as another steps forward to take its place. 

They have me surrounded. But I don’t care. I have to get to Eevie. I have to. And now I am close enough to see that the animal they are tearing into is a deer. Or, at least, it WAS a deer. Now it is nothing but a pile of chewed and splintered bones, strips of sinew and bits of bloodied hide. Eevie’s glowing arrow still protrudes from the ruined socket of the poor beast’s eye. And on the other side of the feast I finally spot her lying on the ground, pinned beneath the massive body of a wolf, the bloody hilt of her sword sticking out of the fleshy folds of the monster’s neck. 

“Octavia, I’m stuck!” She cries out as the wolves continue to circle us. “I’m scared.”

“Me too.” I’m about to say. But before I can find the words... Before I can move to close the distance between us... The wolves finally strike. 

The first snarling beast leaps towards me, all red eyes and yellow teeth and I’m knocked backwards as my sword sinks into thick fur and rubbery flesh. I twist it deeper and deeper into the wolf’s breast until the snarls give way to whimpers and then silence. And I scramble out from beneath the hot weight of the monster. I have to get up. I have to get to Eevie. 

I push myself back onto my feet, but I am too late. Already a wolf is lunging towards Eevie and there is no way I will reach her in time. Still, I rear back my arm to throw my sword in a desperate attempt to stop the wolf. But before my fingers can release the hilt, a flash of silver-white falls like lightning striking from above. The arrow delves into one angry, red eye and before the wolf can even release a yelp of pain a second arrow pierces into the back of its neck and a third drives into the spot between its ears. The animal collapses, its body sprawling across the dead wolf already pinning Eevie to the forest floor.

“Octavia, behind you!” Malika shrieks from somewhere in the branches above and I swivel on the spot in time to see another wolf lunging at me from behind. I slice my blade into the monster’s gullet even as an arrow lodges into its eye with a sick, squishy sound like a knife plunging into a melon. 

“Malika!” Eevie screams from behind me. I hear the swishing of more arrows cutting through the night air. But I cannot watch to see if Malika’s arrows find their targets because already two more wolves are snapping their ugly jaws at me. They snarl at me from either side, circling me as I pivot slowly on the spot with my sword clutched before me. And with Malika busy protecting Eevie, I know I will have to face the both of them alone. 

For one impossibly long moment I stare into hungry eyes and I hold their gaze and I hold my breath. And everything around me dissolves until there is only me and these two monsters, fumbling through the steps of Death’s dance, nothing between us but swirling air and silver-white light. 

And then they attack.

I drive my sword into the first wolf as it lunges towards me, but before I can pull my blade free from the cavern of the creature’s stomach, his companion is already upon me. I feel the bite of razor sharp teeth sinking into my thigh like so many knives. And despite the explosion of pain, the thought pops into my head, ‘if only I had those kevlar pants...’ and I almost laugh as I crumple to my knees. 

The wolf tears his teeth from my leg, taking a chunk of me with him, before clamping them down onto my rib cage instead. I hear a couple of my ribs crack between his powerful jaws like twigs beneath a careless boot. Then the jaws release me and clamp down once more, lower, into the soft side of my tummy. The monster means to tear me open and spill my insides. He means to hollow me out until I am emptier even than the broken shell of a person I once was. And I am powerless to stop him.

Suddenly the jaws release me again and instead of clamping down once more, the wolf’s ugly, snarling face appears before my own. His wet muzzle, painted blacker than the night around us, is so close to me that I can smell the metallic scent of my own blood on his hot breath. And for one moment he just stares into me as if searching my eyes for the soul he longs to consume. And I wait for his jaws to close around my throat. I wait for him to end me. 

And I stare right back into his eyes. But I do not see the red now. Instead, I see the soft chocolate brown of Lincoln’s eyes. Then I see the swirling greens and browns and golds of Eevie’s. And finally I see the deepest, purest shade of blue in Malika’s eyes and I close my own eyes and imagine sinking into soft, endless blue waters as I wait for Death to come for me. 

And I think of Eevie. And I think of Malika. And for the first time since Lincoln fell to the mud and stained the earth red, I do not think I am ready to greet Death after all. But it does not matter if I welcome him or not... Death is coming to collect me all the same.

A howling yelp of pain pierces my eardrums and suddenly hot, wet, thick, bristly fur smothers my face like a scratchy carpet against my cheek. I hear a huff and a grunt and the heavy beast rolls off of me and I open my eyes to that same deepest, purest shade of blue I see whenever I close them.

“Octavia!” Malika cries, hovering over me, her black hair with moonlight woven into it, tumbling around me and tickling my cheek. And even in her worry, she is beautiful. Impossibly beautiful. And I thought I would never get to look upon her face again, and now that it is before me, I never want to look away. 

But I can’t lose myself in the beauty right now. I have to know if Eevie’s alright. So I try to push myself onto my elbows. But the pain wracks over my body, spreading like a wildfire from my side. And my head spins and I collapse back to the ground even as Malika’s palm against my chest pushes me back down.

“Don’t move, Octavia.” She says. “You’re bleeding everywhere!”

“I’m fine.” I try to say, but my words are a gurgle. “Where is Eevie? Is Eevie OK? Go check on Eevie!”

“I’ll be right back.” Malika says, biting her lip, clearly reluctant to leave my side.

“Eevie!” I hear her cry out, and though I know she is only feet from me, her words drift to me as if she is worlds away. “Eevie... Are you OK? Were you bitten?”

“No.” Eevie’s soft voice answers. “I’m OK. I’m just stuck.”

“Hold on...” Malika answers and I hear her grunting once more as she heaves the dead wolves off of Eevie. 

“The wolves ate my kill.” Eevie complains and Malika lets out the smallest of chuckles at the words, a mixture of sheer relief and utter worry.

“Forget about your kill... They almost ate YOU.”

And I lift my head enough to see Malika lift Eevie’s tiny frame from the forest floor and envelop her in her arms. Then she releases Eevie and kneels before her. 

“Octavia’s hurt, Eevie. She needs help.” Malika says, her voice calm and soft despite the fear I saw in her eyes only moments ago. “I need you to get back to the village as fast as you can and find someone to help me carry her. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Eevie nods as Malika pulls her into one more quick hug before lifting her high into the air so she can reach out and snag a low-hanging branch from the tree glowing above them. 

“Stick to the branches.” Malika adds. “The rest of the wolves are still out there. Now go! Quickly!”

Malika rushes back to my side, ripping her jacket from her shoulders as Eevie disappears into the glow of the trees. 

“Stay with me, Octavia.” Malika demands as she balls her jacket up and shoves it against my side. But she cannot smother the flames eating me alive.

“You’re gonna be OK, Tave.” She promises, pressing against my gaping wound, trying to put me back together again. “You’re gonna be OK... Trust me.”

And I want to smile. And I want to laugh. And I want to make a stupid joke and remind her of yet another time those two words earned me a free trip to Healer Orna’s, earned me a visit with Teeko and his fucking Crocusjus. But all I can do is stare into the beautiful blue as long as I can before my lids fall and the silver-white all around me finally gives way to black.

 

***...*** 

 

The woman smiles as she unfurls the flaming whip at her side. Her eyes are a yellowy brown, just a shade darker than the ugly burnt orange-yellow-brown streaked across her bony face and they glint with pleasure. I am on my back and I try to scramble away from her, but my arms and legs are heavy, so heavy, and within seconds she is upon me. 

Her whip cracks like a bullet from Bellamy’s rifle before it wraps around my thigh. And I want to scream as the flames eat their way through fabric and into flesh. But my throat is dry, so dry. And I want to wriggle out of the fire, but I can’t move. And the woman laughs as the whip begins to climb its way up my thigh, and all I can do is blink in terrified confusion as the whip transforms before my very eyes into a snake, its scales brown and orange and yellow and glinting. 

And I look up and the woman is gone. There is only me and this snake climbing up my body slowly, so slowly, hissing at me with a tongue of flames. And then it reaches my side and rears back its ugly head and strikes. And it rears and it strikes. And it rears and it strikes. And I am being eaten alive by fangs and venom and fire. And it burns. It burns. It fucking burns. 

“I already told you, ‘she’s gonna be fine, Malika.’” A voice drifts to me from beyond the flames.

I struggle to open my heavy eyelids and peek through a blurry crack. The snake is gone and I see no fire, but my flesh is still burning, burning, burning.

“And I already told YOU, ‘I’m not leaving,’ Teeko. So stop fucking telling me to.” 

Listening to Malika and Teeko bicker is one of my favorite things in the world and I try to smile and I try to laugh, but all I can do is grimace as the fire burns and burns and burns.

“And save some of that shit for me.” Malika adds.

“The Crocusjus?” Teeko asks. “Are you hurt? Are you bleeding somewhe... What are you doing?”

I open my eyes a little wider to see Teeko snatch a tray of medical tools out of Malika’s reach.

“I need the scalpel.” Malika answers, clearly annoyed.

“What for?” 

“Don’t worry about it, Teeko.” Malika mutters. “Just give it to me.”

“Yeah right. So you can finally stab me in the eye with it, like you’re always threatening to? I don’t think so, Malika.”

“Give me the damn scalpel, Teeko!”

“What the hell for?” Teeko asks again.

“Don’t make me take it from you, little brother. Or maybe I WILL stab you after all.” Malika threatens before lowering her voice. “Come on... Just give it to me... PLEASE.” She adds, begrudgingly, rolling her beautiful blue eyes. 

Teeko tentatively hands her the scalpel, frowning at her in confusion. 

“Thanks.” Malika mumbles with an irritated huff as she snatches the scalpel with one hand and pulls her shirt up to expose her rib cage with the other. And before Teeko can move to stop her, she deftly slits her skin open, slicing along the curve of her side from her bottom rib to the point of her hip bone.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Teeko asks, eyeing his sister as if he thinks she might need an exorcism.

“Fulfilling a promise.” Malika answers calmly, sucking air through her teeth at the pain and snatching a huge wad of cotton from Teeko’s tray to soak up the blackness now leaking from her side.

“A promise to cut yourself open?” Teeko asks, completely confused.

“Don’t worry about it, Teeko.” Malika says again, dabbing at her gash. Then she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, claps her hands together, and bounces on her feet a few times as if gathering the courage to leap into cold water. “OK... I’m ready... Hit me with the damn Crocusjus.”

Teeko is still looking at her as if considering having her committed, but he does as he’s told. 

“Fuck!” Malika cries as her brother swabs at her fresh cut. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... It burns. It burns. It fucking burns.” She finally pushes his hand away and starts bouncing on her feet again, sucking air in and out like a pregnant woman in labor, struggling to apply her lamaze breathing techniques. 

“Don’t look at ME.” Teeko says with his hands raised in submission. “YOU’RE the crazy-ass lunatic who cut herself. What the hell kind of promise was this? Who’d you make it to?”

“Someone who matters to me.” Malika answers between gasps. “That’s all you need to know. Alright, little brother? Someone who matters to me.”

And I want to smile and I want to laugh. But the fire eating at my own flesh is finally subsiding, and before I know it, my eyes have fallen shut again. 

 

*** ... ***

 

“Hey... You’re awake.” Teeko smiles excitedly, his thin lips curling ridiculously far into his pasty, pock-marked face. “How are you feeling?”

My head feels foggy as hell and the crook of my arm is throbbing like a bitch. But my leg and side... They feel fine. “A bit groggy.” I answer. “And my arm kinda hurts.”

“Oh, yeah...” Teeko replies. “We had to give you the Reshop-Serum intraveneously since you were knocked out. We had to make sure you stayed that way. Bad news is that your arm will still ache for a couple of days. But at least you didn’t have to deal with the aftertaste, right?” He chuckles. “How’s the rest of you?”

I sit up and push myself to feet, do a couple of side bends and twist my torso. “My ribs are a little tender.” I say.

“Well, you broke three of them.” Teeko laughs.

“They don’t feel broken.” I say. “Just a little bruised maybe.”

“Yeah.” Teeko replies. “The fractures are already calcifying and your flesh wounds are already closing and scarring over. These bandages are just a precaution, really. I swear... The combined effects of nightblood and Crocusjus... It’s borderline miraculous. If I didn’t understand the chemistry behind it, I’d think it was magical. But really, it’s the zinc and manganese in the blood interacting with the...”

“Well... Thanks for stitching me up again.” I interrupt him, already reaching for my boots. As convenient as it is to be bleeding to death one day and fine the next, I really don’t give a damn about the chemistry behind it.

“You’re welcome, of course.” Teeko chuckles. “But you know... You don’t have to be BLEEDING to come visit me. In fact, if you spent more time hanging out in the village with me instead of tromping through the forest with my sister, you probably wouldn’t be bleeding so often. In case you haven’t noticed, hanging out with my sister is dangerous.”

“Yeah... maybe you’re right.” I confess, lacing my boots up. “But... What can I say? I think I’m attracted to danger.” I laugh, flashing him a mischievous smile. “Speaking of your sister... Do you know where she and Eevie are?”

“They were both here all night and all day yesterday and all night again...”

“Wait... What do you mean ‘all night again?’” I interrupt again. “How long have I been out?”

“About 45 hours I’d say.”

“What? Two whole days? Really?” I ask, rising to my feet and pulling my shirt up to inspect my bandaged side. 

“Yeah. I mean... You were messed up pretty badly. You were attacked by WOLVES, Octavia.”

“Yeah... I remember.” I say, now ripping the black-stained gauze from my flesh. I hand the nasty bandages to Teeko and he doesn’t even curl his lip in disgust as he balls them up and tosses them onto the tray with the scalpel. 

“So, where are Malika and Eevie now?” I ask again.

“Well, after almost two days of just sitting here, Turlino finally lured Eevie away with the promise that he would teach her how to carve her own bows. Malika still wouldn’t leave. She finally disappeared about an hour ago, thank God. She was driving me completely crazy.”

“Where’d she go?”

“Hell if I know.” Teeko shrugs. “Probably out tromping in the wilderness. I’m sure if you hang out here long enough she’ll probably come back bleeding.”

“Naw... I’M always the one bleeding.” I laugh. “When is MALIKA ever the one getting hurt? Anyhow... Thanks again.” I say, giving him a last, perfunctory smile before making a beeline for the door.

“You’re welcome again.” Teeko calls after me before grabbing my wrist to stop me. 

“Uhhh.... Octavia...” He says nervously as I turn in confusion. “I was about to head out and get some dinner. Would you... Uhh... Maybe like to join me?”

“Oh... Uhh... Thanks for the invite.” I answer awkwardly. “But I’m not really hungry.” I lie, hoping he can’t hear the thunder of my damn stomach suddenly rumbling at the mere suggestion of food. 

“Ohh.... Right... OK.” Teeko answers, his face so crestfallen I almost reconsider. Almost. But the prospect of finding Malika is so much more appetizing than sitting through a dinner with Teeko, even if I am starving. “Guess I’ll see you next time you need stitched up.”

“Yeah.” I smile weakly. “I’ll be the one bleeding out everywhere.” And I follow him out the door and am about to step onto the bridge when a second hand wraps around my wrist. 

I jump and spin on the spot in confusion only to sigh in relief at the sight of Healer Orna’s smile. Though I can tell she is holding back the laughter, the smile is still kind. This is not the first time Orna has snuck up on me without me having a single clue she was even in the room. It probably isn’t the last time either. And I wonder how long she has been here.

“Hi, Healer Orna.” I gasp. “You scared me.”

“I seem to have a habit of doing that.” She smiles. And I wait for her to say more. I wait for her to explain why she has stopped me. But she just stands there smiling, still grasping my wrist.

“Uhh... Though I don’t remember any of it... I’m sure you helped Teeko patch me up.” I say with a small chuckle to fill the silence. “Like always... Thank you.”

“Of course.” She smiles on.

“OK... Well...” I stutter awkwardly. “I’m going to be...”

“Octavia...” Orna interrupts me, fixing her chocolate brown eyes... the eyes that always make me think of Lincoln... On me with an intense look. And I know she is about to tell me whatever it is that made her stop me in the first place. And I wait in confused anticipation.

“I’ve known Teeko and Malika their entire lives.” Orna tells me. “Pulled them both from their mother’s womb. They’re family to me.”

I just nod, not sure of where she is going with this. Not sure of what to say.

“Sometimes I think I know them better than they know themselves.” She continues. “And I can tell you... That boy out there... He likes you. REALLY likes you.”

I drop my gaze and start awkwardly rubbing at the floor with the tip of my muddy boot. I know I am blushing and I’m still not sure what to say. “I know he does...” I start to mumble. “But...”

“BUT...” Orna interrupts me, apparently not finished. “As much as Teeko likes you, Octavia... Malika... Malika LOVES you.” And with that, she winks, turns on the spot, and heads back to her room before I can even make sense of her words.

. “She said she was headed to the Wishing Tree.” Orna calls over her shoulder as she steps through her door and closes it behind her. 

***...***

Whether or not they are true, Healer Orna’s words echo repeatedly in the hollow space between my ears. And I don’t know how to make sense of them. And I don’t know what to do with them. But there they are all the same, replaying over and over and over again in my mind. And I can’t get them out of my head as I walk through the forest, barely aware of where my feet are carrying me. 

Malika led Eevie and I to the Wishing Tree on one of our first visits to this forest, eager to tell Eevie all about its magical wish-fulfilling powers. As far as I can tell, the Wishing Tree is just a massive natsoncha tree that was struck by lightning a few years back. The lightning split its trunk right down the middle, but the tree survived it. During the day it looks like any other natsoncha tree, save for the charred strip down the middle and the countless glass prisms hanging like crystals from its limbs. But at night, the lightning’s damage can be clearly seen, as only about half of the tree’s twisted branches glow. Strange thing is, just which branches glow and which don’t changes every day. Teeko explained the science behind it, but of course I wasn’t really listening. Something about how it’s the SAP that luminesces, not the BARK, and because the sap is always moving, you never know which branches will light up and which won’t. 

Whatever the science behind it... Legend now has it that if you pluck a twig from the tree’s branches during the daytime and make a wish on it and leave a crystal prism hanging in its place... If the twig glows come nightfall, your wish will be granted. I don’t really believe it, and I’m not sure if Malika does or if she just pretended to for Eevie’s sake. Because Eevie’s eyes lit up that night ten times brighter than the twig glowing in her little fingers. And Malika’s grin as she looked on, was nearly as bright. And even at the memory of their smiles, I know I too am grinning as I walk.

It’s nearly dusk, my favorite time of day. But for now the sun still hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows. And though they will soon glow silver, the trunks of the trees around me are tinged golden in the dying light and it is almost as beautiful. The fallen leaves crunch softly beneath my boots and, this far from the heart of the village, it is the only noise save for the occasional scurrying of some unseen critter and the last tired songs of birds settling in for the night. A lonely owl hoots somewhere in the branches above me, beckoning to the falling night, already welcoming the coming darkness. And I wonder if, like mine, his heart pumps a little faster knowing that the forest will light up all around us any minute now. 

I spot the massive tree looming ahead, the countless glass prisms hanging from random branches capturing the dying sunlight and casting tiny rainbows all around, the colorful embodiments of past wishes granted. I scan the branches above for eyes bluer than the afternoon’s sky and hair darker than the night’s. And I’m about to call out into the quiet when suddenly a body falls from the branches above me and collides into me with such force that my feet sweep out from beneath me. 

The air rushes painfully from my lungs in a surprised humph as my back slams flat against the solid earth, and I am gasping, struggling to pull in the chilly air that swirls tauntingly all around me. But even if I hadn’t just been tackled to the ground, I doubt I could catch a breath right now, because the body that just ambushed me is now sitting lightly on top of me, perched casually just above my kneecaps, grinning at me with a smile more stunning than sinking golden sunlight or rising silver moonlight or rainbows floating in the dusky in-between. 

A quick moment passes before I find enough breath to utter a single word. “Ouch!” I complain through my own grin.

“Sorry.” Malika says, and by her smirk I know the word’s a lie. “But I couldn’t resist. After all, you had your guard down.” She says, raising her eyebrows judgmentally and giving me a look of disapproval. 

“Hey...” I protest. “I’m still groggy from all the Reshop-Serum Teeko shot me up with. Besides, I wasn’t exactly expecting to be attacked beneath the Wishing Tree, of all places, now was I?”

Malika leans forward, gently propping her elbows against my hip bones so she can fix me with a proper gaze. And I find myself swallowing hard, struggling to breathe again because she is far too close.

“You should ALWAYS have your guard up in this forest, Octavia.” She scolds me. “You never know what might attack you. You never know what might try to BITE you.” She cocks an eyebrow and flashes me a wicked smirk before leaning back onto my knees again and propping her elbows back onto her own knees. And now I find myself propping myself from my own elbows up onto my hands because she is far too far away.

“Speaking of bites...” I say in mock anger. “I’m fine by the way.”

“I know you are.” Malika laughs. “I’ve seen you survive worse. I mean... What’s a little wolf bite compared to ELEVEN bee stings?” She teases. “Or FOURTEEN stitches?”

“Or THREE days of vomiting?” I add. “I mean... You DO remember that time I almost died after you convinced me to eat those poisonous berries, right? ‘Trust me!’” I say in my best impersonation of Malika. “‘Teeko taught me all about foraging. These are wild huckleberries. They’re totally safe.”’

“OK...” Malika huffs defensively even while trying not to laugh at the memory of me green-faced and puking. “Teeko never mentioned that there were highly dangerous feisbona berries that look JUST like wild huckleberries. So THAT one’s on HIM. Unless of course...” She adds, scrunching her lips to one side sheepishly. “He DID tell me that and I just wasn’t listening to a damn word he said. That is possible.” 

“Highly possible.” I chime in.

“In which case, I guess that one IS on me too.” She admits, now scrunching her lips over to the other side and furrowing her eyebrows pensively. And I wonder if she knows how adorable her thinking face is. “I guess if I were you I wouldn’t fucking trust me either. I swear... I’m not TRYING to kill you. But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? And like I said... Partly thanks to me... You’ve survived worse things than a little dog bite.”

“A little DOG bite?” I huff. “Those monsters were massive. Wolves on fucking steroids!”

Malika just chuckles and I freeze as she casually reaches out and, without a moment’s hesitation, pulls my shirt up to expose my tummy. She lightly traces her fingertips over the bright shiny pink flesh already forming a new jagged scar running along the curve of my side. And I don’t know if it’s more her light touch or the chilly air that makes my skin tingle. 

“Already it’s nothing but a scar and a story.” She laughs, letting her fingertips come to rest on the pointy knob of my hip bone. 

And now my heart is racing, racing, racing.

‘Fuck it,’ I tell myself. And before I can talk myself out of it, I reach out and pull her own shirt up to expose her flat tummy and trace my fingers along her own fresh scar running along the soft curve of her side. 

“How did you know?” She asks in a small voice. “You were passed out...”

“Teeko could shoot me up with an entire gallon of Reshop-Serum... You think I could sleep through the burn of his fucking Crocusjus?” I chuckle. Then I drop my voice, almost choking on the next words. “This one wasn’t on you, Malika. It wasn’t your fault. Not at all.”

Malika just shrugs. “It was only fair... All the shit I’ve put you through. ACCIDENTALLY, of course.” She adds, raising her palms out in front of her innocently before dropping her gaze. “I’ve kind of decided... From now on, if YOU bleed, I bleed.” She finishes in a little voice, before lifting her gaze again slowly and giving me a small smile. 

This is the closest to shy I’ve ever seen Malika. And her fingertips are still resting on my hip. And now mine are on hers. And I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

So I drop back down onto my elbows and I let the tension fall along with the hem of her shirt. 

“So... What did you wish for?” I ask, trying to sound casual despite the tightness in my throat.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Malika says as if chiding a toddler for peeking beneath the wrappings of their Christmas presents before the big morning. “Not until I find out whether or not it’s granted.” She says, holding out a small twig. “That’s the rule.”

“What are you talking about?” I laugh. “That’s not a rule.”

“Is too.” She argues. “Until I see whether or not it glows, I can’t tell you, or else it will never come true.”

“What? You just made that rule up.” 

“No I didn’t. It’s common knowledge.”

“Teeko never said anything about that.” I say, cocking my brows skeptically. “I think you just don’t want me to know what you wished for.” 

“Teeko must have assumed you already knew that rule, because EVERYONE knows it.” Malika counters, sticking to her guns. 

“Aww... Come on, just tell me. I won’t laugh.” I promise through a laugh. “TRUST ME.” 

“No.” She repeats firmly, as stubborn as I ever am. “This is the biggest wish I’ve ever made on the Wishing Tree, and... Whine all you want... I’m NOT gonna fuck it up.”

“The biggest wish you ever made?” I echo her, completely intrigued. “Now I HAVE to know what it is.” 

“Patience, Tave.” Malika scolds me. “The sun’s falling. We should know any second now anyway.”

And, as if the forest and the sky and the universe itself was listening in on us, at her words the last golden rays of the sun succumb to shadow and all around us the trees begin to glow. 

“Oh no!” Malika exclaims, shutting her eyes tight. “I’m not ready... I can’t look!” She holds the branch out to me. “Is it glowing? Is it glowing?”

“Open your eyes and see for yourself, you big dork.” I laugh.

And she takes a deep, steadying breath and a thick, nervous swallow. Then she finally opens her eyes and, just like Eevie’s, her grin makes them shine impossibly brighter than the twig glowing in her palm.

“Just what the hell did you wish for?” I chuckle at her goofy, adorable excitement.

Malika pulls her shining eyes from the glowing twig and fixes them on me and I swear her gaze is so intense I can feel its heat burning against my cheeks like Crocusjus. Her eyes are full of uncertainty and hesitation. Her eyes are full of confidence and resolve. 

And all of a sudden she springs forward off of my knees, leaning over me with her palms planted on either side of my ribs. And now she is close enough to steal my breath completely. 

“You.” She whispers. “I wished for YOU.”

And before I can grasp her words... Before I can think of a response... Before I can grin or smile sheepishly or even part my lips in surprise... Her lips are on mine.

Her kiss is nothing like Lincoln’s. It is not gentle or soft or slow. It does not make me think of safety or ‘home’ like his did. Her kiss is rough, hungry, almost violent in its intensity. And I can only move against it for a moment before I pull back with a gasp of pain as the metallic taste of nightblood assaults the tip of my tongue. My bottom lip is smarting and now I understand what she meant when she warned me that more than just the wolves in this forest bite. 

Malika pulls back from me enough for our eyes to meet and, if possible, her gaze is even more intense than before the kiss. But now the uncertainty and the nervousness and the hesitation are gone. And all that is left is anticipation. And she chews her own lip as she waits for my reaction, her half-cocked smile a mixture of mischief and sheepish remorse, as if to say “I warned you,” and “I’m not sorry.” 

And I consider the girl before me, so very different from Lincoln. And I know she is not safety or security or comfort. She is danger and adventure and adrenaline and life utterly raw and pure. She is leaping from a ledge into churning waters. She is reaching into a buzzing, vibrating hive. She is tossing a handful of mysterious, plump, purple berries into your mouth. She is shambling out onto the knobbly edge of a branch and letting your feet dangle. 

She is cold, deep waters embracing you and jagged rocks slicing you open. She is sticky golden sweetness on your fingertips and hot venom sizzling through your veins. She is nothing but air floating beneath you and she is solid, unyielding earth slamming into you and ripping the breath from your lungs. She is tart berry juice on the tip of your tongue and poison coursing through your bloodstream. She is thick, cold darkness pressing in from above and silver-white light wrapping warmth all around you. She is Crocusjus, burning, burning, burning you, even as it stitches you back together again.

No... Malika is nothing like Lincoln. And I still miss, miss, miss him. I always will. But that does not change the fact that I want, want, want her.

And so, before I can talk myself out of it, I wrap my calves around the backs of her knees and force her in closer to me until I can find her lips again. And my kiss is rough, hungry, almost violent in its intensity. And I only give her a moment to move against me before I find the tender edge of her lip between my teeth and bite until she pulls away, sucking air between her teeth at the pain of it. And her tongue traces the cut on her lip as she pushes back up onto her hands, hovering over me, searching me with wide, surprised eyes. 

“I bleed... You bleed, right?” I ask with my own half-cocked grin.

Malika lets out a wild bark of laughter and I imagine if Joy had a sound, this would be it. “I swear... Between the two of us, Tave, we’re going to drain Teeko’s supply of Crocusjus dry.”

“Probably.” I agree, with my own wild laugh. Because the joy has already risen within me and now it is spilling, spilling, spilling from me. “But it will be worth the fucking burn, right?”

“Oh... It’ll be worth it.” Malika smirks. “TRUST ME... It’ll be worth it.”

And I know I shouldn’t trust her. And I know she is not safe. Because Malika is like the wilderness itself... Wild and free, mysterious and beautiful, untamed and dangerous... And altogether alluring. She is like a winding, narrow path leading through trees into dappled sunlight and long shadows and the promise of the unknown. And I cannot resist her pull. And I know I might get lost in this wilderness and never find my way back out again. I know I might get cut open. I might get stung. I might get bitten. 

But I might discover a place of wild, untouched beauty, raw and pure... A place that’s all my own. A place so mysterious and mesmerizing that I may never WANT to leave this wilderness. 

And... What can I say... I am attracted, attracted, attracted to danger.

So I pull her into me until I can feel her skin against my skin and her lips against my lips. And I let my feet carry me into her wilderness... Into light and shadow and the unknown. And my heart is racing, racing, racing... But I don’t look back. I don’t look back.


End file.
